


Refuel

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blow Jobs, Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 21:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20071066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis needs a rest stop.





	Refuel

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“I need to go to the washroom.”

Ignis doesn’t even turn around anymore. He just tells the rearview mirror, “I heard you the first time.”

Noctis’ reflection glowers back. “Then why haven’t we pulled over yet?”

Gladiolus interjects, “Just pull the car over, Iggy. If His Highness needs to go so bad, let him squat behind a rock like the rest of us.”

Despite the fact that they’ve all had to do that at least once or twice on their extended road trip, Noctis insists, “No, I need a _real_ washroom. How have we not passed a gas station yet?”

Ignis doesn’t answer. Instead, he sighs, clearly exasperated. In an effort to help, Prompto pops open the glove compartment and reaches for the map. Before he can unfurl it, Ignis tells him, “It’s alright; there’s a rest stop just over this hill.”

Ever impressed with Ignis’ organization ability, apparently including a mental map of the continent, Prompto nods and puts the physical map away. Sure enough, the Regalia pulls around a large chunk of nondescript rock-bed, and a few tiny buildings pop up in the distance. They’ve officially reached the middle of nowhere and have been driving for days, the four of them cramped together every minute of every day with way too little legroom. Prompto’s dying for a nice, big hotel room and a pretty town with something to _do_, but he’s given up complaining. Ignis is clearly nearing his wits’ end with them, and Prompto really does try to be good. 

Noctis, on the other hand, mutters an irritated, “Finally.”

As they speed towards the outpost along the empty road, Gladiolus checks, “Any body else need to go? We shouldn’t stop too long if we’re going to reach the base by nightfall—I want some daylight when we first scope it out.”

“I’ll only be a moment,” Ignis answers. “I’d like to top up some of our supplies.”

Prompto shifts in his seat before deciding, “I’m good. I wanna get out though.”

“We all should; it’s important to stretch,” Ignis tells them. 

Only a few more minutes, and he’s pulling into the dirt lot next to a rusting building with a pump out front. Gladiolus volunteers, “I’ll fill the tank up,” while Ignis heads inside. Prompto pops his door open and just lets his legs kick out. 

His boots have only just touched the ground when Noctis shows up in front of him, announcing, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Prompto blinks. “But I don’t need to go.”

Noctis gives him a look so intense that Prompto’s stomach petrifies. Noctis tells him, “Yes, you do.”

Confused but always up for whatever Noctis wants, Prompto agrees, “Uh, sure.” With a curt nod, Noctis turns and marches for the gas station—Prompto hurriedly catches up. 

They step into the dingy, over-air-conditioned shop. There’s an old, wrinkled woman bent over the counter that’s too buried in a magazine to even look up at them. Ignis is already at the vehicle maintenance section and doesn’t pay them any mind. Prompto’s eyes instantly draw to the rows of junk food, his stomach warring his brain over them, but Noctis keeps walking, so Prompto does too. He leans against the back wall outside the washroom door while he keeps visually devouring the entire chip isle. He figures Noctis needs to go first and fully intends to wait outside, except that Noctis grabs his wrist and suddenly jerks him into the dirty stall.

The door slams shut behind them, cutting off Prompto’s squawk of surprise. The claustrophobic space is a yellow-stained off-white with dirty red floor tiles and a toilet with the lid up, a cracked sink, and garbage in one corner with torn bits of toilet paper all around the edges. Prompto has a few seconds to take it in before he’s being shoved against the door. 

The next thing he knows, Noctis’ tongue is in his mouth, and he’s choking on the shock. His hands fly up to Noctis’ shoulders, and he shoves Noctis back, meaning to ask what’s going on—he thought Noctis had to piss. But Noctis just dives back in and kisses him again, slamming against his mouth with no small degree of force. Prompto opens up out of sheer surprise. Noctis’ tongue slips back in to trace over his bottom lip and plunge inside his mouth, licking at his teeth with a virile intensity. 

Prompto doesn’t try to push Noctis away again. He just clutches at Noctis’ shirt, dazed but working into it—he does always like when Noctis kisses him. Noctis has a way of getting him going faster than anyone else. Even in situations where they shouldn’t. Noctis’ knee abruptly shoves between his thighs, and Prompto groans into Noctis’ mouth as Noctis’ crotch grinds into his. He can feel the prominent bulge in Noctis’ pants and tell exactly how hard Noctis is already. Prompto’s fingers dig into Noctis’ shoulders, cock hardening too as Noctis furiously rubs them together. 

It just gets worse from there—Noctis’ hands start moving. They trail down Prompto’s body in rough, kneading motions, squeezing and clutching and scraping on the way. When Noctis reaches Prompto’s hips, he digs his fingers in so hard that Prompto’s sure he’ll get bruises. Noctis’ thumbs trace Prompto’s belt, then tug at his tucked-in shirt, and then Noctis hands are under the fabric and feeling up his stomach. 

Prompto can only moan and rock back as Noctis crosses one line after another. He reaches Prompto’s chest and squeezes Prompto’s pecs, murmuring between messy, tongue-and-teeth filled kisses, “’Fucking love your tits, Prom.”

Prompto grunts but doesn’t have the wherewithal to be properly embarrassed. Noctis barely gives him the chance to breathe. Noctis pinches each nipple and tugs at them, then pushes in and grinds the heels of his palms into them, practically torturing Prompto’s trembling body. His nipples are going to chafe later. They’ll be sore and make him think of Noctis. Noctis spends too much time just gleefully abusing them, then darts down and cups Prompto’s ass. 

Prompto yelps but doesn’t stop Noctis from sliding beneath his pants and underwear. Prompto’s belt is drawn tight against his stomach as Noctis stretches the waistline, taking two fistfuls of Prompto’s ass with his bare hands. Two thumbs run along Prompto’s crack, fingers splaying out and rubbing him. His cheeks are pried open, and two blunt digits circle his hole. Prompto barely manages a breathy, “_Noct_...”

“You’ve got such a great ass,” Noctis croons. He plays with it like he’s been _starving_ for it, and his kisses turn into feral bites along Prompto’s jaw-line. Prompto tilts his head aside just to gulp in air. That leaves Noctis free to suck a hickey into his neck. 

One hand runs over both cheeks while the other twists around to the front—Prompto completely loses it when Noctis grabs his shaft. Noctis wraps around it and licks up to Prompto’s ear, hissing into it, “I miss your cute cock.”

It’s a wonder Prompto’s knees haven’t given out. The sudden assault is too much to take. But Noctis is actually the first to fall. He leaves Prompto’s underwear in favour of fumbling open Prompto’s belt and ripping it loose, then drops right to his knees. 

Flushed and panting, Prompto looks down at his beloved prince. He’s been in love with Noctis for as long as he can remember, but it still blows his mind whenever Noctis kneels before him. He thinks he should get down too, join Noctis on that uncomfortable-looking floor, crawl into his lap and beg to ride his cock—but Noctis doesn’t waste any time in getting his own plans started. He drags down Prompto’s boxers and pants just enough to let his cock spring loose, and then Noctis is leaning in with his mouth wide open. 

Noctis latches onto the head of Prompto’s cock, sucks _hard_, and shoves down. The rush of heat and pressure blows Prompto’s mind. His fingers fly into Noctis’ dark hair, knotting and holding on as Noctis closes in for the kill. He starts bobbing up and down at a rapid pace, taking Prompto deeper on each thrust, shallowly sucking on the way to leave Prompto seeing stars. Once Noctis’ hands return to groping Prompto’s body, clutching at his thighs and stroking his balls, Prompto stands no chance. He can’t last against the sweet ecstasy of Noctis’ mouth and the sheer pleasure of the debauchery: of his _prince_ giving him head in some run down gas station bathroom. He’s coming before he knows what’s happening. 

He cries out, even though they’re technically in public and he shouldn’t. He leans over Noctis’ body, shoving Noctis head right against the base of his cock. Noctis obediently sucks him down and swallows up his cum.

Prompto’s boneless. His head is completely, utterly empty, his skin prickling and warm. His knees are shaking. Noctis gives him a few extra bobs for good measure, then pulls off with a sickly wet sound and a final lick of Prompto’s cock. 

Noctis gets back up to his feet like it’s nothing. He wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. He tells Prompto around it, “Honestly, the worst part of this trip is just being trapped with you all day and not being able to sneak off into the bedroom and touch you.”

Prompto doesn’t know what to say to that. He has no brainpower left. Somehow, he manages a weak, “Same?” Noctis is super hot. Prompto does want to fuck him constantly. 

Noctis gives him a salty kiss, then leaves the washroom without even pissing. It’s probably better they don’t go back at the same time, but Ignis and Gladiolus will still figure out what happened, because Prompto is always putty in Noctis’ hands after an orgasm. 

He needs at least a minute to regain his sanity, so just drops down to the hard floor. Then he tucks himself in, sucks in a huge breath, and loyally follows after his boyfriend like the hopelessly lovesick puppy-dog he’s become.


End file.
